


All We Have Is Now

by Cousin Shelley (CousinShelley)



Category: Train to Busan (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Sang-hwa didn't die, Seok-woo didn't die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28235145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinShelley/pseuds/Cousin%20Shelley
Summary: The four of them made it to Busan alive. Now comes the hard part.
Relationships: Sang-hwa/Seok-Woo, Sang-hwa/Seong-kyeong (Train to Busan), Sang-hwa/Seong-kyeong/Seok-woo, Seong-kyeong/Seok-woo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	All We Have Is Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ValiantBarnes (Cimila)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cimila/gifts).



“Baby, I’m starving.” Sang-hwa pressed himself against his wife’s back and wrapped his arms around her. “If jerk-face doesn’t get here soon, I’m eating without him.”

He wouldn’t, actually, but not because he was polite. Seong-kyeong wouldn’t let him be rude.

“How many people today?” She scooped rice into a serving bowl. “Are there enough rooms?”

“Thirteen. They’d been surviving in the countryside. They’ll live four or five to an apartment like us, so there’s room. Soo-yun asleep?”

“She is.”

“Napping in Soo-an’s room again?”

“She’s a good babysitter. And barely wants to leave Sleepy’s side.” Her name for her fetus had stuck, mostly because Soo-an still liked to call her that. 

He kissed her neck. “When things get back to normal, we should hire her as our nanny.”

Seong-kyeong laughed. Then she slapped his hand as he reached for the ladle in a bubbling pot of broth. “He’ll be here soon and you know it.”

As if on cue, Seok-woo walked into the apartment, looking as tired as Sang-hwa felt. Soo-an came out of her room carrying a very awake and hungry baby girl. Sang-hwa hurried to take her and give her a hug and a kiss while he patted Soo-an’s head. He loved the giggles Soo-yun had learned to make.

Soo-an’s face lit up when she saw her dad. She grinned at Sang-hwa and said brightly, “Hey, the asshole’s home!” Then she threw herself into her dad’s arms. 

Sang-hwa clapped his hand over his mouth then laughed behind it. Seok-woo glared at him, shock and irritation on the surface but Sang-hwa swore he could see the laughter he wouldn't allow out. Seong-kyeong took the baby from Sang-hwa and mumbled, “I told you to stop saying that where she could hear you.”

“Something smells wonderful,” Seok-woo said, then kissed Soo-an’s head. “Go wash for dinner, all right?”

As soon as she’d left the room, Seok-woo stepped up to him. “So you’re teaching my daughter to curse now? Soon you’ll be teaching her to smoke and hustle people at billiards tables, won’t you?”

Sang-hwa laughed again and caught his wife’s elbow in his ribs for it. “All right, all right. I could have been more careful. But she clearly doesn’t know what it means or she wouldn’t have said it. _There’s_ something to be happy about.”

Seong-kyeong’s narrowed eyes told him he’d made a good point, so he crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the counter next to the cooktop.

He probably should feel bad, but it was too funny for that. Anytime he’d gotten home from work detail before Seok-woo, he’d said, “The asshole’s home” to his wife when he came in the door, and she’d told him time and time again to be careful what he said within earshot of Soo-an. “Kids hear things you don’t think they’re listening to,” she’d warned him. And Soo-an picked up a lot more than the average child.

“I’ll start calling you something else, she’ll pick that up instead, and hopefully she’ll spend several more years not knowing what kind of a word _asshole_ is.”

Seok-woo got a glass out of the cabinet, filled it under the tap, and took several long swallows like he hadn’t had a drink in hours. Given his work ethic, Sang-hwa thought it was possible he hadn’t. When he’d drained the glass he said, “Yeah? What are you going to call me instead?”

“Don’t know. Asshole’s really the perfect word for you, but I’ll come up with something.”

Seok-woo’s mouth turned up on one side. “Try hard.” HIs eyes gave away his amusement, so he could pretend to be angry all he wanted. Sang-hwa knew his moods better than that.

What he didn’t know was exactly when “asshole” had become a term of endearment, but he guessed it didn’t matter. It had, and they got along, and that was what was important. 

“We’re on the same work detail tomorrow.” Seok-woo filled his glass again but didn’t drink from it. “So you won’t have to call me anything because we’ll get home at the same time.”

Seong-kyeong motioned for them to sit in front of the plates and bowls already put in place. “Then maybe I’ll say _hey, the stubborn jackasses are home!_ ”

Soo-an came back with freshly washed hands while Seong-kyeong secured the baby in her seat. Sang-hwa raised his glass to Seok-woo and mouthed the word _asshole_. He tried not to laugh out loud when Seok-woo mouthed back the word _fucker_ , and Seong-kyeong gasped the word _idiots_.

Sang-hwa didn’t miss the affectionate smile shared between Seok-woo and his wife. Or the way Seok-woo turned to him after and smiled just the same. 

Soo-an laughed, the baby gurgled, and Sang-hwa thought dinnertime couldn’t get much better than that. 

* * *

Seok-woo crawled under the covers with his daughter and felt the tension leave his shoulders as she wrapped her thin arms around him and sighed. He tucked hair behind her ear and hummed the same song one of them hummed every night at bedtime: Aloha ‘Oe. 

As sad as it made him, this would be his second night lying with Soo-an until she fell asleep and then moving to the living room. Soo-an needed to get used to sleeping alone again and having more privacy. 

He wouldn’t have dreamed of trying when they first arrived and she needed him to keep the nightmares away. Her recurring dream had caused them all many sleepless nights. First Sang-hwa was bitten on the train when they were trying to get into car fifteen and died protecting all of them, then Seok-woo was bitten protecting his daughter and Seong-kyeong when they were on a train engine riding out of the station. She woke screaming for weeks.

He had dreaded changing to new sleeping arrangements, but it had to be done. Knowing she was next to him while he slept had kept his nightmares away, too. Most of the time. 

He still marveled at how lucky they all were to be alive when almost everyone else on the train, as far as they knew, had perished. The four of them and two of the teenagers, Yeong-guk and Jin-hee, were the only survivors. 

When their locomotive had reached the barricade at Busan, the six of them had walked through the tunnel together, been taken into quarantine for two days to be sure no one was infected, and assigned one apartment. Space was limited since the military was still sweeping abandoned homes ( _homes of the dead_ many people called them now) and making sure any infected were killed. Sang-hwa and Seong-kyeong had taken the large bedroom in the apartment they were given, and kept the baby in that room after she was born, while Seok-woo stayed with Soo-an in what had obviously been a child’s room. 

The teens had discovered that Jin hee’s mother had survived, so of course they stayed with her. That had been one of the happiest days they’d all had since coming there, seeing Jin-hee’s mother running toward them, screaming and crying in relief and joy. 

He’d thought of that while removing the personal effects of the child who’d once slept in Soo-an’s bed, who had almost certainly met a grisly end. It helped. 

And it let them all imagine they might have a relative still alive somewhere who would greet them with such joy. 

Seok-woo had been in the same work detail with Yeong-guk just a few days ago, and he’d told Seok-woo he was going to marry Jin-hee. Seok-woo told him _one day. You’re so young, there’s plenty of time._

Yeong-guk had simply stared at him, innocent and sincere, and said, “Is there?”

Seok-woo had no answer. He’d once thought there was always time, before the outbreak. Time to make up with his wife, to do more for his mother, to spend more time with Soo-an. Now time seemed to be the most precious thing they all had, next to each other, since they’d all come so close to losing any they’d had left. 

How he wished he could go back to _before_ , spend more time with Soo-an, and more time with his mother. If his mom were there now, she would definitely sit Yeong-guk down and make sure he understood how foolish it would be to rush into marriage so young, even now. You don't have to be married to grab every bit of happiness you can, he'd finally told Yeong-guk, and had heard his mother's voice even though he spoke it.

Oh, how he missed her. 

Soo-an’s breathing steadied. He touched the tip of her nose and whispered _hey, asshole_ , just because it made him smile. She didn’t stir. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, then kissed her on the forehead. They did have time now. He worked long hours on the work details and was physically exhausted at the end of the day, but it was better work than he’d had. 

First they’d cleared the rubble and burned the dead, and he stayed grateful every day that for the most part those tasks were over. Now they were rebuilding roads, buildings, basic infrastructure. The amount of damage had been stunning, and even with the might of their military forces and the engineers in their ranks along with those who had found refuge there, it took time. 

He liked the work. It was honest, sweaty work, and he could leave it behind at the end of the day, something he’d never been able to do before. There was nothing to trade, no funds to manage, so his career was essentially over anyway. And even if by some miracle life could ever go back to the way it was before, he wouldn’t want that life again. He’d rather sweat and ache and know that what he was doing really made a difference in people’s lives. 

Stragglers wandered in every day from their hidey-holes in the countryside. Nearby countries, particularly China, India and Vietnam, had massive outbreaks now from people who’d boarded planes and trains but were slower to turn than most. Most of the planes had crashed when a passenger turned feral, but a few had reached their destinations. By the time police boarded, all the passengers, flight crew and air marshals had been turned into weapons. North Korea was almost certainly suffering like the rest of Asia, though they’d never let that news get out. 

And rumor had it that the US, UK and Australia had refused to shut down airports even after specific warnings of infected passengers, and the outbreak was spreading unchecked as bad as it had been there during those first days. At least Korea was recovering now, no longer being ravaged like much of the rest of the world. 

It all made Seok-woo sad and furious, but he had no time for it. He felt for those suffering, but he was doing the best he could for Soo-an, Sang-hwa and Seong-kyeong. He had to focus to take care of himself and all of them. 

To take care of my family, he thought, not for the first time. 

He moved to the sofa and drew the blanket folded on the back of it over him. He’d gotten more comfortable with thinking of Sang-hwa and Seong-kyeong as his family with each passing month. He’d even forgotten himself and kissed Seong-kyeong on the cheek the other morning right after Sang-hwa had when they were leaving for work. 

He’d had no right to do that. Both of them could have been offended. Instead, they both looked pleased by it. 

The look on Sang-hwa’s face had reminded him of the look he’d gotten when they were working to dig a new path for a roadway a few days earlier. They’d been on the same detail with Yeong-guk who still felt such guilt about hesitating when they’d been attacked by his teammates on the train.

They’d both tried to tell him he did the best he could, he _was_ about to fight back and save them when they hit the tunnel and it became unnecessary. But the kid’s guilt was painful to see. 

When they’d sat on the ground to eat lunch, Sang-hwa pointed at his own face. “Look at me and listen. I understand. If Seong-kyeong had been attacking you, I wouldn’t have been able to lay into her with a bat. I would have hesitated. I don’t think I . . . I couldn’t have . . . “

His eyes grew wet until he couldn’t finish what he was saying. He pulled the kid into a headlock and rubbed his knuckles against his scalp. “You did good, okay?”

Seok-woo blinked away his own tears at how Sang-hwa couldn’t even imagine it without emotion. He put his hand on Sang-hwa’s shoulder and gave him a slight nod. He understood, too. 

Later, when they’d been teasing the kid about having trouble lifting a sack of cement, even though they knew it was only because he hadn’t gripped it properly, Sang-hwa showed off his muscled arms and bragged about how strong he was. When Seok-woo disputed that, Sang-hwa had lifted him in a bear hug and declared he could crush his lean little body without really trying. 

There was a lot of squeezing, bouncing and laughing, until they weren’t really laughing anymore as much as staring at each other, fond and confused. It had been the same look Sang-hwa had given him when he’d forgotten himself and kissed Seong-kyeong’s cheek. 

Seok-woo liked that look. He wanted more of it, even though he sensed he shouldn’t want such a thing. But Seong-kyeong had become a mother to Soo-an without anyone expecting her to or asking for that. She taught Soo-an at home because she wasn't ready to be away from any of them long enough to attend the school sessions that had been set up for the surviving children. And Sang-hwa had been willing to die to protect them all, even when Seok-woo and Soo-an had been strangers. Now that they were anything but that, each of them would die for the others without hesitation. How could he not love them? 

He pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. 

* * *

Two weeks later, Sang-hwa came out of his bedroom in the middle of the night to get something from the kitchen. He’d worked extra hard for the past several days, and his stomach had been making unholy noises for a half an hour. Finally Seong-kyeong said, “For God’s sake, please go eat something!”

Who was he to argue with his wife?

Seok-woo moved on the couch, a restless shape in the dark, rolling side to side. They knew he’d been sleeping on the couch for a couple of weeks, trying to get Soo-an used to having her own room again. In fact, now that Soo-yun had been sleeping through the night for quite a while, they’d put the crib in Soo-an’s room at her request, because she still didn’t like being in there alone. They’d made her promise that if the baby woke and they didn’t come running, Soo-an would come get them instead of trying to handle things herself. They knew they could trust her. 

Seok-woo sleeping alone on a sofa that probably wasn’t very comfortable didn’t seem right, not when everyone else had someone with them. And Sang-hwa couldn’t let him keep fretting in whatever nightmare he was having. So he stood behind the sofa and said his name. He said it louder. 

Finally he hissed, “Asshole!”

Seok-woo sat up with a start, then put his hand over his chest. “What do you mean scaring me half to death?”

“You were dreaming, and it didn’t look pleasant, so I woke you. You’re welcome.”

Sang-hwa went to the kitchen. Seok-woo followed him, so he pulled two bowls out of the cabinet. It was always better not to eat alone if you didn’t have to. 

They ate leftovers from dinner in silence, then cleaned up their dishes. Seok-woo shuffled back toward the sofa. 

Sang-hwa couldn’t let him walk back to that couch. He was uncomfortable about the things he wanted to say, but a stray feral could pop up at any time and make sure he never had the chance again. That thought was worse than being awkward and saying what needed to be said. Even if they were wrong about how Seok-woo might feel, it was better said out loud and done with.

“It’s not right.”

“What?”

“You sleeping alone in there. No need for it.”

Seok-woo shrugged. ‘It’s been the better part of a year. Soo-an needs to learn—”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Seok-woo stared at him, brows drawing together. “I’m . . . okay.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but it’s still not right.”

“It’s not that uncomfor—”

“I can’t sleep well knowing you’re in there alone, okay?” He hadn’t expected to make that admission, but it felt better now that it was out. “Our bedroom is big. Our _bed_ is big. And if you don’t like that idea, at least sleep on the floor in our room? The couch cushions come off. You can throw them down for padding. But the bed is much softer.”

Seok-woo stepped toward him. “They’re just bad dreams, Sang-hwa. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Sang-hwa licked his lips. “When are you going to realize that everything is handled better together?”

Seok-woo chewed his lip. “This was Seong-kyeong’s idea, wasn’t it?”

“No, it was mine but she’d been thinking about it too, and agreed. You think I don’t see the way you look at each other?”

Seok-woo’s mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry. I meant no offense. I just—”

“It’s the way you look at me sometimes, too. And she’s caught me looking at you the same.”

When the silence stretched out, Sang-hwa threw his hands up. “I know! I can hardly believe it myself. Someone sensible like me this fond of an asshole like you, who would have imagined it?”

Seok-woo relaxed, a tiny smile forming. “Not me.”

“So are you coming to bed, or not?”

When Seok-woo glanced toward their bedroom and hesitated, Sang-hwa wrapped his arms around him and lifted him with a little shake, the way he had so innocently while they’d been working and it had turned into something heated and unexpected. 

Seok-woo laughed, and it made the whole awkward conversation worth it. 

“I can just carry you in there, you realize. I could easily wrestle you down and pin you to the mattress.” He lifted him a little higher and held on tight.

Their noses brushed, and Seok-woo gasped at the closeness. “You always did want to get physical with me, didn’t you, from the very beginning.” His eyes narrowed but his mouth started to stretch wider, the now-familiar sign of an oncoming grin.

“I wanted to knock your head off your shoulders.” He probably would have if not for Seong-kyeong. Yes, he’d closed the doors on them at first, trying to keep the infected out, but when it had mattered, Seok-woo had opened it. That fixed things. 

Lots of doors had opened, it seemed. 

“And now, Sang-hwa? You don’t want to knock my head off anymore?”

“Some days I do still, to be honest,” he said with a scoff. Seok-woo had taken risks for them, despite their rough start, and any man who would die to protect his child was all right in Sang-hwa’s book. “But mostly not. I can think of plenty of other things to do with you instead.” 

When there was no clever comeback for that, Sang-hwa brushed his lips across Seok-woo’s. 

“You don’t have to carry me,” Seok-woo whispered. “I can walk.”

Sang-hwa put him on his feet, then followed him into the bedroom. Seong-kyeong was already sitting up in bed, waiting, and her face broke into a beautiful, beaming smile when Seok-woo was first through the door. 

“You won’t be on the floor, I hope?” she said. 

“He’s threatened to wrestle me into the bed, so I guess not.”

She rose to her knees to greet him with a kiss not quite as gentle as Sang-hwa’s when he reached the bed. 

“Left side’s mine,” Sang-hwa said. “And you should know, I hate cold feet on my legs, even my wife’s. If you put cold feet on me while I’m asleep, prepare to be punched, after all.”

Seong-kyeong pulled Seok-woo down to the bed. Sang-hwa closed the door and then let her pull him down too, amazed at how his tiredness faded away at the sight of his wife’s hungry kiss and at how the pale skin of Seok-woo’s back was as warm and soft as he’d imagined. 

At least there was less chance of actually being shocked awake by cold feet since he wasn’t going to get much sleep to start with. 


End file.
